Sickness
by BoomChick
Summary: Even into the lives of Soldiers and Legends some sickness must fall. Sephiroth/Cloud. Mild warnings for gross flu and mention of experimentation. Nothing gory, though! Mostly fluff.
1. The Flu

"I'm dying," Cloud moaned into his pillow, curling up more tightly under the covers.

"You are not dying." Sephiroth sighed from nearby.

"You don't know," Cloud replied sourly, his words muffled in the pillow. "I could be. Maybe I've got some mysterious disease and it's killing me, and then you'll be so sorry your last words were 'you're not dying.' Jerk."

"You," Sephiroth said—Cloud felt him press a kiss to his mop of unruly hair before speaking again—"are an unspeakable drama queen when you are sick."

"Don't kiss me!" Cloud objected loudly, sending himself into a coughing fit with the proclamation. He grabbed the other pillow off the bed and flung it lazily in Sephiroth's direction, trying to catch the breath to speak again. "You'll get sick too!"

"Please," Sephiroth scoffed. He didn't sound like he'd received Cloud's vicious pillow attack. "I have only been sick once, and it was after a month and a half in the pouring rain of Wutai's monsoon season with no way to warm up and nothing to eat. I am reasonably certain I can handle your head-cold."

"It's not a head-cold," Cloud muttered, glaring at Sephiroth. "It's probably pneumonia. Stop trying to one-up me. I feel awful."

"I know you do," Sephiroth replied. "I am not trying to one-up you. I am ensuring you know what, exactly, it takes to get me sick. The answer is not this." He bent down and pressed a kiss to Cloud's forehead.

"Uugh, don't," Cloud groaned, turning his face into the pillow again. "I'm disgusting."

"You are not," Sephiroth sighed, resting his hands on Cloud's back lightly. "You're just a little ill. When have I ever minded you being a little sweaty?"

"Remember when we talked about innuendo?" Cloud asked, his voice muffled by the pillow, "And when it's appropriate? Not the time."

"Sorry," Sephiroth replied easily, running a hand over Cloud's head. "You are warm. Your fever's gotten worse. I'll get a cool cloth for you. Zack said it would help."

"Don' go." Cloud muttered, burrowing his face deeper in the pillow.

"I'll come right back," Sephiroth chided from behind him, his hand sliding down Cloud's spine with familiar affection.

"But I might die while you're gone, and you'll miss my last words," Cloud whined.

"Don't be ridiculous," Sephiroth replied. Cloud heard him bend down—felt his soft lips press hard against the back of his neck. He shuddered at the firm kiss, closing his eyes tightly. "I would never permit you to die before me."

Cloud didn't have the words to object to that statement. He didn't object when Sephiroth left the room. He lay still, waiting for him to return—listening for the soft rhythm of Sephiroth's boots on the floor.

"There," Sephiroth said softly as he returned, "you are still breathing, aren't you."

"Just barely," Cloud responded. The words came out in a wheeze, and he curled up, turning his face out of the pillow as he coughed and gasped for breath. Sephiroth's hand rested on his chest as he coughed, his lover sitting next to him as Cloud's eyes teared from pain and he felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment at being unable to stop the coughing fit.

"Relax," Sephiroth whispered. "Let it pass in its own time. I have you."

Cloud closed his eyes, and almost sullenly followed the advice. He knew Sephiroth was right. He hated being this weak in front of the other man. Hated showing how very normal and average he was. He stopped fighting the coughing fit, letting Sephiroth's wide, warm hand on his chest comfort and relax him.

"There," Sephiroth whispered as Cloud caught his breath. "You see? You're strong enough without having to fight for it."

"I'm sorry," Cloud moaned, turning towards Sephiroth and hiding his face against the man's thigh. "I didn't mean for you to have to play nurse..."

"Don't be silly," Sephiroth chided, carefully resting a cold cloth on the back of Cloud's neck. He shuddered at the cold contact, but didn't complain this time. "If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be."

"I feel cold," Cloud whispered sorrowfully.

"You're burning up," Sephiroth corrected.

"Hold me anyway?" Cloud asked, looking up at him out of teary eyes. He could feel his lower lip trembling, and cursed silently at himself. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't cry in front of Sephiroth.

"If that's all," Sephiroth said softly, shifting away from the hold Cloud had taken on his thigh, "then you should have said so earlier."

Cloud let out a breath of relief as Sephiroth shifted and slid into bed beside him. He curled against his always-warm lover, hiding against him. He was desperately glad that this wasn't the snotty sort of sickness. He would never be able to touch Sephiroth for fear of dirtying his perfection. He didn't think he could handle the mortification of sneezing against his chest.

"There," Sephiroth whispered as he wrapped his arms behind Cloud's back, drawing him close so that Cloud's head was pillowed on his bicep. "Better?"

Cloud hummed in agreement, closing his eyes. He loved the feel of Sephiroth's muscles under his cheek, no matter which one he was pillowed against. There was something so utterly reassuring in how firm and relaxed they were.

"You're sure I won't get you sick?" he mumbled softly.

"I'm sure," Sephiroth replied, shifting just a little to press a kiss to Cloud's nose. "Now go to sleep."

Cloud gave him a tired smile, letting himself drift away from aching lungs and the pervasive soreness that had infused his body. Sleep was good. Sleep would definitely help.

And if Sephiroth was there, he was pretty sure he could sleep. After all, it was an order.

* * *

><p>Sephiroth slipped out of bed once he was sure Cloud was firmly out. He loved his blond cadet, but he had lied a little. Cloud was uncomfortably sticky with sweat, and very warm. Sephiroth would comfort him and hold him while he was awake, but while Cloud was unaware, he wanted a shower. He tried not to think about how similarly Hojo seemed to feel from from what he said after the uglier experiments.<p>

The shower was fast and cold. He was secure in Cloud's well being for the moment, but he wanted to keep an eye on him. It felt good to be clean, though. He'd taken the time off work to ensure that Cloud remained hydrated and was not as bad as he complained to be, and that meant there had been a lot of time to pick up the scent of Cloud's sickness.

He towelled himself off and stepped into the doorway of Cloud's room, checking on him. The young man was drooling into his pillow, curled up miserably under the covers. Sephiroth walked over to drop a brief touch to Cloud's hair, giving it a soft ruffle, then went to make himself tea. He had difficulty eating and drinking while covered in the smell of sickness. He would catch up while he could.

He was halfway through his mug of tea when the first gasp of terror reached him. The tea cup broke on the floor behind him as he sprinted to Cloud's room, the desire to be at his side and assure him overwhelming his natural tidiness. He stopped in the doorway. Cloud was pressed against the headboard, staring into the corner of the room. His brow was beaded with sweat, and his face was flushed, but only at the centers of his cheeks. The rest of his skin looked pale and sickly

"Don't," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Stay back."

"Cloud?" Sephiroth asked softly, walking over to the bed slowly.

"Seph," Cloud whispered. "Tell Angeal to go away. He's in the light socket and he won't go away..."

Sephiroth frowned. He touched his hand to Cloud's forehead. It was burning.

"It's just a dream," Sephiroth assured, though his mind supplied another definition. 'Hallucination.' Cloud was getting worse.

The cadet clung to him until he fell asleep again. Only Sephiroth wasn't sure he was asleep. There was a dangerously uncertain air of unconsciousness about him. He was breathing heavier, a soft wheeze and catch to the sound. Sephiroth stared down at him, uncertain. He'd seen sick men before. He'd heard dying men before. Cloud did not sound like he was dying—it was not the ugly rasping gurgle of a man's last breaths—but he did not sound well. And he did not sound merely 'sick.' Sephiroth shivered, then frowned at his body's own response. He found himself stroking Cloud's face, uncertain of how else to help him.

Cloud got hotter. Sephiroth set him down gently to retrieve the thermometer. He roused Cloud enough to coax him into letting his temperature be taken. Cloud's striking blue eyes were glassy and unfocused. His temperature had reached 39.4. Any higher and Sephiroth would carry him down to medical himself. Only a degree or two higher and Cloud's very physiology would be at risk from the fever.

He didn't notice, at first, the twisting sickness in his stomach. For a moment, he wondered if the tea he'd drunken was disagreeing with him. Then he realized that the uncommon sensation was fear. Fear so bone-deep that he could taste it.

'You'll be so sorry your last words were 'you're not dying.' Jerk.' Cloud had muttered only earlier that evening. Sephiroth tried to put the thought out of his mind, shaking his head physically in an attempt to dislodge it. Every piece of scientific information he had suggested that Cloud was not dying. That this was a flu. That Cloud's fever would break and he would wake up and be himself again.

"Please," Sephiroth whispered, brushing fingertips hard with callouses down Cloud's perfect, pale cheek. "Please be alright."

He hovered sleepless at Cloud's side. Cloud slept fitfully, often waking halfway with murmurs of distress. Sephiroth soothed him and wiped cool cloths over his sweat stained face. The fear in his stomach didn't settle. Time inched by, and Cloud's fever did not break. Every hour Sephiroth roused his lover just long enough to take his temperature. It hovered just above 39 degrees, changing only by miniscule decimal points, up and down.

Sometimes Cloud jerked awake as though from a nightmare. He thrashed weakly in the sheets, sweat-stained and terrified. Sephiroth caught his arms as carefully as he could, keeping him from harming himself, and spoke softly to him. Cloud's panic rarely faded quickly. He never said anything to Sephiroth—never even seemed to fully recognize that it was him. He always faded back into sleep with that look of fear and confusion still on his face.

By three in the morning, the sheets were soaked with his lover's sweat. Sephiroth lifted him carefully out of bed, settling him on the sofa for a moment while he changed the linens. Cloud stirred and gave a soft groan, but didn't wake. Sephiroth roused him as best he could and coaxed him into drinking a little of the disgusting sports drink Zack had recommended when Cloud first got ill. The blond was disoriented, but he followed orders, drinking as much as he could before he exhausted his limited stores of energy. It was barely more than a sip.

Sephiroth carried Cloud back to bed and tucked him in, sitting at his side and stroking his blond lover's hair. Anxiety kept his mind whirling. He had work at eight am. He would not have slept. He would have to do another demonstration. He could cover enough to fool the president, but Hojo would know. He always knew. He should be asleep. He should call Zack in and go to sleep.

But he could not do it. He could not tear his eyes away from Cloud's pale face. His sweet Cloud, who always smiled so happily when he saw him, even if it was in professional settings. More than once his lover's delighted face had been chased away by one of shock and embarrassment as he remembered himself and saluted. It took everything Sephiroth had in the way of restraint to keep from smiling back.

"What are you doing to me," He whispered, brushing his fingers through Cloud's hair again.

An hour later, he roused Cloud to take his temperature. 39.7 this time. But the cadet didn't let go and fall back asleep. He grabbed one of Sephiroth's hands and curled up, clinging to it. Sephiroth didn't argue. He settled in close so Cloud could hold on easily, and kept his other hand on Cloud's forehead, waiting for his temperature to change.

Finally, at five in the morning, Cloud started to shiver. Sephiroth soothed him at first, worried it was another symptom, but when he checked Cloud's temperature, he found it down to 38. His lover's fever had finally broken.

When he roused Cloud next, he was coherent. He blinked blearily at Sephiroth, his stunning eyes crusty with dried tears, and gave a massive yawn.

"Seph?" He murmured, his voice dry and raspy.

Sephiroth couldn't respond. His mouth had gone dry with relief. His chest tightened, as though to restrain his thundering heartbeat. He leaned forward, pulling Cloud into a careful hug. His lover's arms looped around him after a moment of confusion, giving him what Sephiroth supposed was supposed to be a squeeze.

"I'm sorry," Sephiroth whispered. "For teasing."

"What?" asked Cloud blearily, his voice dry and sounding painful in his throat.

"Lay back," Sephiroth murmured, carefully lowering Cloud from their hug. "I'll bring you something to drink."

Cloud drank thirstily this time, and the knot in Sephiroth's stomach loosened. His fear subsided as Cloud let out a slow breath, wiping a hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes. Sephiroth let out a slow breath. He stared at Cloud, breathing in slowly before releasing the last of his tension. He stroked his fingers down Cloud's cheek.

"I'm all sticky," Cloud murmured wearily, shifting uncomfortably in bed. He still sounded half- asleep.

"You were sweating a lot," Sephiroth murmured. "I don't think my clothes will fit you, but I have a shirt you can sleep in."

"Nn," Cloud murmured, rubbing blearily at his eyes again. "Can I?"

Sephiroth just gave him a soft kiss and pulled a shirt out of his drawer, draping it over Cloud's lap. "Go ahead and change. I'll fix you some toast and tea."

"You should be in bed," Cloud murmured, a worried frown crossing his lips.

"Stop worrying about your commanding officers," Sephiroth instructed with a fond teasing note, dropping a kiss to his lover's forehead with the words.

Cloud gave him a weary, dimpled smile in response.

Sephiroth returned with tea and toast. He nearly dropped both when he caught sight of little Cloud. The blond was swathed in one of his shirts. It looked enormous on him. He was trying clumsily to roll up the sleeves past his hands when Sephiroth walked in, still looking dazed and flushed. He gave a little sniffle and looked up, noticing Sephiroth's attention. His blue eyes were lively and sparkling again. Sephiroth felt himself melt at the very sight of them.

"I'm sorry," Cloud whispered. "I should have stayed at the barracks. I didn't mean to keep you up..." He teared up as he spoke, and Sephiroth shook his head, walking over swiftly and touching his fingers to Cloud's cheek, catching a tear lightly before it could fall.

"Don't," he said softly. "I would have it no other way that that you come to me when you are in danger. Do not feel guilt for doing exactly what I have asked of you. I am only glad that you are safe now. I have functioned perfectly well on less sleep. So no worrying. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Cloud murmured, lifting his hand to wrap gently around Sephiroth's wrist, giving him a sleepy half-smile.

"That's my Cloud," Sephiroth said, the relief he felt accidentally slipping through into his words.

"I'm still so tired," Cloud whispered. "I feel awful..."

"I know," Sephiroth said, stifling a yawn.

"You really stayed up all night, didn't you?" Cloud whispered, sniffling again. "You still have some time before you have to go... I can move to the couch, let you get some sleep..."

"No," Sephiroth murmured. "Stay. If it will make you feel better, I will rest with you a while."

"Will it make _you_ feel better?" Cloud asked wearily.

"Yes," Sephiroth whispered after a moment. "If nothing else, being with you a while now that you are feeling better."

"Then c'mere," Cloud murmured, shifting a little out of Seph's way, frowning quietly to himself. "Hn... Just to warn you, my skin is still really sensitive," He muttered grumpily.

"I'll be gentle," Sephiroth promised, unable to help the sexual purr his voice took on. Cloud shivered and hit him lightly.

"No taunting," The cadet grumbled, snuggling in at Sephiroth's side.

Sephiroth gave a small smile and wrapped Cloud in his arms, letting out a quiet breath as he felt the cooler skin under his touch. Sephiroth's shirt was huge on Cloud, covering him down to mid thigh. Sephiroth stroked his fingers lightly over the skin, contemplating.

"You will have to wear my shirts to bed more often when you are feeling better," He instructed wearily.

"Yes sir." Cloud responded, nuzzling against his chest.

"Get some rest, cadet."

Sephiroth slept well through his internal alarm's usual waking point. was three hours late to work. He didn't care in the slightest.


	2. Part 2: Overdose

Part Two: Overdose

Cloud sighed, stirring his cold tea with a finger absently. He gazed at the doorway, waiting for it to open. He couldn't help but thinking of the warm bath filled with rose petals he'd drained hours ago when Sephiroth was late coming home—of the dinner covered in tin foil sitting in the oven and waiting for him. He glanced to the clock again and propped his chin on his fist as he waited idly at the table. If his lover—fiancee, he mentally corrected—had gotten distracted training again, they were going to have some strong words together when he got home. A twisting, worried part of him was whispering that it was something so much worse than that, but he refused to so much as entertain the notion.

"Come on, Sephiroth." He muttered, lowering his eyes to watch the ripples in his tea. "You're supposed to be home by now…"

He eventually poured out his tepid drink and started washing dishes. It wasn't his favorite chore in the world, but it kept his hands busy. When he finally heard the door open, he abandoned his task so quickly that he didn't bother so much as wiping the dishwater off his hands. He bolted into the living room still covered to the elbow in soap suds with his fingers wet and pruny.

"Welcome h—Gods, are you okay?"

Sephiroth closed the door behind himself. He was pale and stooped, as though he were carrying a great weight on his shoulders. He'd removed his Soldier belt, and it hung over his left shoulder where it dangled forlornly, leaving his torso bare under his jacket. He lifted his eyes to Cloud, and Cloud winced at the shade of green they were. He walked over to Sephiroth's side instantly, wiping the dishwater off on his pants to duck under his arm, supporting him slightly, even though Sephiroth barely put an ounce of weight on him.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, shifting a hand to Sephiroth's bare stomach.

Sephiroth's hand moved with lightning speed, catching Cloud's wrist and dragging it away. The General wavered, a tense look crossing his face for a moment. He swayed, and Cloud realized after a moment that his skin was waxen and pale, tinged with a hint of blue, like a corpse.

"Please do not touch my stomach right now." Sephiroth managed to say after a moment. "I am feeling distinctly unwell."

"You're sick?" Cloud asked.

Sephiroth started to answer, but turned his face away, covering his mouth as he gave a soft, helpless burp instead. Cloud bit back the urge to laugh at the startlingly human sound coming from his marble god of a lover. Sephiroth looked painfully uncomfortable, and Cloud silently scolded himself for not being overwhelmed with concern. He swallowed back his amusement and rested his hand lightly on Sephiroth's back.

"Let's get you to bed, okay?" He said, rubbing over the supple leather. "Do you know what it is? A cold? A flu?"

"Mako." Sephiroth replied blankly, walking forward, stepping out of Cloud's hold rather thoughtlessly, as though his mind was in another place altogether. "They tried something new."

"What was that?" Cloud asked in concern, following him.

"Digestion." Sephiroth replied, sounding highly ill. "I would rather not speak of it."

Cloud winced and shuddered, holding back a sick sound of his own at the very thought. He dropped by the kitchen, wetting a towel in cool water before following Sephiroth to the bedroom. He arrived to find the General lowering himself stiffly onto the bed, still fully clothed.

"Wait wait wait," Cloud chided gently, moving over to his side and thrusting the damp rag into Sephiroth's hands. "At least let me get your boots off."

Sephiroth made a soft sighing sound, but held still where he was sitting on the bedside. Cloud unbuckled the thigh-straps with the ease of long practice, sliding the boots free and setting them neatly aside. He knew very well that Sephiroth would rest better if everything were in order.

"We should get that jacket off you too." He warned as Sephiroth lay down stiffly.

"It's fine." Sephiroth muttered, his normally smooth voice slightly dry and rough. "I just want to lie down…"

"Now I _know_ you're sick." Cloud muttered, lifting the wet rag from Sephiroth's limp hands.

He rested his palm on the General's forehead and winced at the heat of it. Sephiroth's temperature was already warmer than a normal person's—as he understood it that was why so few infections made it into Soldier; They were too hot to incubate the usual germs. As warm as he usually was, now he was scalding.

"Cloud." Sephiroth muttered. "You might not want to be too close. I am not a pleasant patient. The guest room should be all set up…"

"Don't be silly." Cloud removed his hand, gently dabbing at Sephiroth's overheated skin with the wet rag. "I'm not just going to leave you here feeling sick and burning with fever."

"I'm hardly warmer than usual." Sephiroth sighed, closing his eyes as he sank into the bed. "I feel colder than usual, actually."

"Yeah, that's what happens when you have a fever." Cloud said, trying to keep his voice patient and kind. "You've seen it happen to me often enough, right?"

"Well, yes, but you were sick…" Sephiroth muttered, lifting a hand to rub at one of his eyes.

"So are you." Cloud wiped the rag down Sephiroth's cheek gently, smiling when his lover turned into it, despite his complaints about chills.

"It's just mako." Sephiroth muttered, his eyes opening to narrow slits to look at Cloud.

"Does it feel bad?"

"Yes."

"Are you feverish?"

"Yes."

"And nauseous?"

"I'd rather not bring it up…"

"Then you're sick."

Sephiroth made a grunt that might have been agreement, disapproval, or a particularly uncomfortable lurch of his stomach. Cloud decided to take it as the first, and carefully stroked Sephiroth's bangs out of the way of his face. The handsome arches kept getting glued to his cheeks with sweat, and making his skin damp with the cool rag wasn't helping either.

"I might throw up on you." Sephiroth muttered with a grimace.

"I've been warned." Cloud murmured, leaning down to gently press a kiss to Sephiroth's forehead. "You need rest, Sephiroth. You should sleep."

"You smell like roses…" Sephiroth murmured, still squinting at Cloud as though the dark room were too bright for him. "Were you waiting for me?"

"Don't be silly." Cloud muttered, running his fingers gently over Sephiroth's scalp, hoping to soothe him. "I'm always waiting when you're away."

The faintest of smiles twitched Sephiroth's mouth as Cloud stroked the rag gently over his neck and bare chest, washing away the sweat that covered him. He tried not to notice that he could see the soft green glow of Sephiroth's veins under his pale skin, thrumming with his heartbeat. He was careful to go no further than Sephiroth's ribs, worried about making his nausea worse.

"You are so lovely." Sephiroth muttered, as though he thought Cloud couldn't hear him.

Cloud lifted his eyes, smiling softly at him. He hesitated, watching Sephiroth's eyes. Their glow pulsed in rhythm with his veins. It was an uneasy sight, and Cloud abandoned cleaning him to rest his hand over Sephiroth's forehead again, wishing they had a thermometer in the house that wouldn't beep loudly enough to send Sephiroth spiraling into migraine territory. He really needed to talk to someone about getting an old-fashioned thermometer instead of the digital ones that were all over the place in Midgar.

"Maybe ma would send me one…" He muttered to himself, removing his hand to carefully tug Sephiroth's gloves off his hands.

"Send you one?" Sephiroth squinted at him again before giving a little groan and shifting on the bed, obviously uncomfortable.

"A thermometer that won't beep at you."

"Don't you dare bring that thing in here." Sephiroth hissed. "It hurts my ears when I'm _not_ dosed out of my mind. It would probably make my head explode as I am now."

"You _are_ a bad patient." Cloud teased softly, trying to hide his worry as he held Sephiroth's trembling hands in his own, carefully pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

"Cloud, I feel awful." Sephiroth whispered, shifting uncomfortably. "I just want this to be over."

Cloud cupped Sephiroth's cheek gently, sitting delicately on the side of the bed, trying not to shift him too much.

"You're the strongest man in the world." He murmured softly, holding contact with Sephiroth's pulsing eyes without shrinking back. "You'll be better before anyone else would even be halfway through it."

"I think anyone else would have died already." Sephiroth muttered, though he shifted to curl up closer to Cloud. "I'm mildly jealous of them…"

"See? Still joking." Cloud praised softly, his brows twisting when Sephiroth grunted, uncurling again to flop on his back, obviously uncomfortable and unable to settle.

"Let me get you undressed?" He offered softly. "Your leathers can't be comfortable. Especially not with your pauldrons still on."

"They're heavy." Sephiroth warned.

"If you can sit up enough for me once I've got it unbuckled, I can handle it."

Sephiroth grunted in approval. Cloud started unbuckling his jacket for him, watching the muscles of his stomach tighten and release with waves of sickness, coinciding with the soft sick noises he was making, almost inaudible except that there was no other sound in the room to cover them.

Cloud finally urged him to sit up, his words quiet and his hands gentle. It took a fair amount of coaxing for the limp General to move at all. When he sat up, his head lolled weakly, and Cloud ended up with his hand bracing the back of his neck to keep him steady while he dragged the long coat out from under his top half, lowering the pauldrons to the floor. Then he started gently wiggling the tail end out from under Sephiroth's hips, trying to hide how difficult it was. He didn't want Sephiroth to put any more effort into moving than he absolutely had to, and he knew his lover would try if he saw him struggling.

When he finally got it free, he took his time hanging it up to give himself a break. Sephiroth was so quiet behind him, he hoped for a moment he'd fallen asleep. Right up until he turned around to see Sephiroth's eyes still fixed on him, his mouth opened slightly as he breathed.

"That should be a little more comfortable, right?" He asked softly as he walked back over. "Why don't you get some rest, Seph? I'll keep an eye on you…"

"I don't want to." Sephiroth muttered. "I can't control myself as well while I sleep."

"Well, no, that's kind of the point." Cloud pulled their seldom-used quilt off the bottom of the bed, carefully draping it over Sephiroth. The General gave a shiver and a soft moan, his eyes closing for a moment.

"I want to keep an eye on you…" Sephiroth sounded distant and worn, the green light of his veins still illuminating his skin in unnatural light.

"I'm not going anywhere." Cloud promised. "I'll call Zack in the morning to tell him I can't do training. He'll understand. I'd call him tonight, but it's already one in the morning."

"I don't want anyone touching me." Sephiroth was still staring at Cloud, but his eyes were hazy, his pupils so wide they almost looked round. "No one but you. I can't be sure if I'm asleep."

"You're making these reasons up as you go," Cloud took one of Sephiroth's hands, kissing it gently and laying it on top of the quilt. "Like a child."

Sephiroth withdrew his hand again, petulantly tucking it under the blanket and shivering once more, as though he were freezing.

"I don't want to." He whispered. "Don't make me."

Cloud paused, staring at him. His mood sobered quickly as he saw the look on Sephiroth's face, all confusion and pain. He reached out, smoothing a hand over his fiancee's hair.

"No one's going to hurt you on my watch." He said softly. "If you feel safer awake, then that's okay. We'll stay awake together."

Sephiroth blinked blearily at him, and Cloud doubted he'd caught most of that. He sighed, running his thumb lightly over Sephiroth's lower lip as he cupped his jaw line in a hand.

"I won't make you go to sleep." He whispered.

Sephiroth nodded solemnly, shifting with a wince on the bed. He wiggled a moment before pushing the covers off his torso with a sigh.

"Sensitive skin?" Cloud guessed, remembering how intense every touch of fabric had been after his last Mako injection.

"Blanket feels like it's lined with glass…" Sephiroth muttered.

"Ah…" Cloud withdrew his hand quickly from where he'd been holding him. "I'm sorry, I should have thought about that."

"I like it when it's you." Sephiroth sounded almost grumpy about having Cloud's petting removed.

"Tell you what," Cloud said. "Let me get you some water, and then we'll figure out how to keep you warm. You sound parched."

"Don't want it." Sephiroth muttered, turning over onto his side and curling away from Cloud. "It'll make me sick."

He said the word 'sick' in a very specific way, and Cloud nodded his agreement slowly.

"It can wait for a little while." He conceded. "But you have to drink. You're sweating buckets, and getting dehydrated won't do you any good."

"I just have to wait it out." Sephiroth replied through clenched teeth.

Cloud's brows twisted in worry, and he gave a quiet sigh. Then he stripped out of his shoes and shirt, laying carefully on the very edge of the bed.

"Roll onto your back." He murmured to Sephiroth. "It's better for your stomach. I'll stay close to keep you at least a little warmer since the blanket isn't helping. Okay?"

"I don't understand why he does things like this…" Sephiroth whispered, even as he followed Cloud's advice, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. "Aren't I good enough yet, Cloud? Why do I still need to get better?"

"You don't." Cloud murmured softly, resting his hand carefully over Sephiroth's still-pounding heartbeat. Exhaustion beat at him internally, but he pushed it away with pure anxiety, forcing himself to focus on Sephiroth and only Sephiroth. "Hojo's a delusional old fart."

Sephiroth made an abrupt sound, and Cloud stiffened, reaching halfway to the trash can for Sephiroth to vomit into before he realized that the General was laughing. The sounds were more muffled snickers than anything, but they brought a genuine smile to the sick man's face.

"Old fart." He repeated in a low whisper, as though it were the most delicious phrase he'd ever encountered.

"You know, I think _you're_ a little delusional right now, darling." Cloud murmured, pressing a kiss to Sephiroth's shoulder. "I thought you were chattier than usual."

"Don't eat mako." Sephiroth replied blankly, as though he hadn't been laughing moments ago. "I'm going to make a PSA. Parents, don't let your children eat mako. Only old farts would do that. And also your children will probably die."

"Good PSA." Cloud praised fondly, pressing his face into Sephiroth's arm to hide his laughter, though there was no hiding the quaver of amusement in his voice. "Very informative."

"It was hard to get home." Sephiroth bemoaned with a weary sigh. "Everything was swimming. Everything is still swimming."

"You're holding still." Cloud said softly, cuddling against Sephiroth's skin. "So am I."

"Doesn't feel like it." Sephiroth sighed, his perfect silver eyebrows drawing together. "I don't like this…"

"I don't blame you."

"I'm so tired." Sephiroth's voice had gotten more distant. "I don't want to fall asleep."

"Don't be afraid." Cloud whispered, rubbing Sephiroth's chest gently, the words feeling strange on his tongue.

"Cloud." Sephiroth murmured softly. "Would you do me a favor?"

He spoke with a quiet clarity that seemed to come and go in tides of confusion. Cloud gave a solemn nod in reply, propping himself on one elbow so he could meet Sephiroth's gaze.

"Distract me." Sephiroth whispered. "It hurts, and I can't… Think straight."

"Distract you…" Cloud muttered. "I guess I can start up a movie or—"

"A story." Sephiroth sighed, his eyes closing lightly.

"What?"

"Tell me a story." Sephiroth murmured, his voice still hazy and low. "There was… When I was a boy, there was a man who would tell stories till I felt better. It calmed me. I miss that calm."

"You're sure?" Cloud asked. "I'm not a good story teller."

Sephiroth lifted a hand, covering his mouth. His brows twisted as he gave a quite, queasy burp. Cloud flinched at the smell of mako, and silently rubbed Sephiroth's chest again.

"Very sure." Sephiroth groaned, his hand dropping back to his side again. "It feels like my insides are on fire. I need something to think about."

"Okay." Cloud said softly. "Well, um… I know some stories about the Ancients and a couple about Nibelheim history—"

"No." Sephiroth said blankly. "A fairy tale."

"A… You're sure?"

"I like them." Sephiroth sighed, shifting stiffly on the bed and turning his head towards Cloud. "They are… Stable."

"Alright." Cloud said slowly. "A fairy tale. Let me think."

"I'm not going anywhere." Sephiroth's fever-hazed eyes unfocused again, drifting off Cloud to gaze up at the ceiling again. "There's a crack in the ceiling."

Cloud glanced upwards at the perfect ceiling and didn't let himself sigh. He mentally struggled, reaching for the fairy tales he'd never thought much of knowing.

"Goldilocks and the three bears?" He offered.

"Fine." Sephiroth muttered. "Anything but Red Riding Hood. Having a hunter cut my stomach open sounds too much like wish fulfilment."

He made a soft noise in the back of his throat, nauseated by his own words. Cloud sighed at him and bent, dropping a soft kiss to his forehead. He'd wanted to kiss his lips, but Sephiroth's expression had tightened in displeasure at the motion, so he'd aborted. He was probably grateful. Sephiroth's breath was far from its usual perfect mint-fresh, or even his mid-mission mako-tinged kisses. If they were to indulge in too much fluid exchange Cloud had the uneasy feeling that he'd overdose on mako as well.

"Let's see." He muttered, carding his fingers through Sephiroth's hair. "Once upon a time, there was a little girl—"

"Make her a boy." Sephiroth muttered.

Cloud stared at him a moment, restraining a stunned laugh. Then he cleared his throat. "A little _boy_ named Goldilocks."

"Silverhair." Sephiroth corrected in a mutter.

"Are you sure you want to be the protagonist of this story?" Cloud asked with a warm chuckle in his voice. "She kind of steals a bunch of stuff and wrecks a house, then runs away."

"Hn." Sephiroth muttered. "Rapunzel."

"You want Rapunzel instead?" Cloud asked with a soft, startled laugh.

"She's my favorite." Sephiroth lifted a hand, swirling it slightly through the air as he explained. "Long hair. Held captive because of greed. Ignorant of the outside world…"

"You identify, huh?" Cloud asked softly.

"It was my favorite." Sephiroth whispered. "Only…"

"Only?" Cloud prompted when Sephiroth trailed off.

"No one ever came to save me." Green eyes closed slowly. "Tell me the story, Cloud…"

Cloud's chest tightened at the weariness that had come over Sephiroth's face. He stroked his green-tinted skin, trying to mentally cement the story in his head. He took a slow breath, starting to speak softly and slowly. It had been years since he'd heard Rapunzel, but when he lost his train, or skipped over something, Sephiroth would correct him in a low, sleepy murmur.

Before long, Cloud managed to stop saying 'um' every other sentence. He embellished a little, just to see if Sephiroth corrected him. Instead, Sephiroth seemed to relax more with every detail Cloud added, his blurry eyes fixated on Cloud's lips as he spoke. Cloud settled as he hit the center of the story—the visiting prince and their growing love affair was easier to remember than the setup and the reasoning of Evil Fairy Tale Witch number 500.

He faltered when he came to the witch's trick, trying to remember how it went. He took his gaze off the wall he'd been looking at, turning it back to Sephiroth, anticipating his correction. He froze when he saw that the face he'd been gently cupping with one hand was slack and relaxed, the handsome General fast asleep with his cheek pressed into Cloud's palm.

He held perfectly still, mentally casting about for a moment. He wasn't uncomfortable, but it was always the way that when he found himself pinned by Sephiroth, no matter how calm he'd been before, his brain always ran through all the possible reasons he might be uncomfortable in a little while. He ran a mental checklist, and let out a breath as he found that he didn't need to use the bathroom, and was not currently desperate for a drink. His legs weren't even cramping yet.

He settled on the bedside, his thumb tracing over Sephiroth's cheekbone. In the quiet room, he could hear Sephiroth's stomach grumbling in discontent at the abuse. The skin under his palm was hot, and he couldn't tell for sure, but he was fairly certain that Sephiroth was getting sweatier. He frowned when he noticed that his skin had taken on an even greener cast.

Morbid curiosity led him to wipe the discarded white sheet of their bed over Sephiroth's arm. It came away stained green with his sweat. He clenched his jaw in frustration, watching his lover suffer in his sleep without being able to help.

Eventually, the mako-tinged sweat made his palm tingle, and Cloud had to pull his touch away, wiping the greenish liquid off on the sheets swiftly. Prolonged skin contact with mako was the reason all the medic vans had an emergency shower inside, they'd been told as cadets. Even as a Third-Class, he wasn't willing to risk it. He wouldn't do Sephiroth much good if he got sick as well.

Cloud didn't want to leave Sephiroth alone, though. He fetched a new towel, only very-slightly damp to keep from being scratchy. He cleaned the mako sweat off his lover as it appeared, hoping to help his overtaxed body eliminate some of the surplus.

Eventually, he couldn't push aside his exhaustion any further. He carried one of the dining room chairs into the room, and sat at the bedside. He fell asleep with his arms and his head on the bed, listening to the rhythm of Sephiroth's ragged breathing, and fully aware of the dim phosphorescent glow of his fiancee's sweat illuminating the room.

He dreamed of a room filled with water, and Sephiroth glowing inside, laying inert at the ocean floor with fish darting around him, drawn to the glow of his skin. The water glimmered with the shining of green light, the only beacon of brightness in an otherwise pitch-black sea.

Cloud woke up abruptly, filled with the instinctual knowledge that he really needed to use the bathroom. But he shoved that thought aside to focus on the more immediate problem. His glowing lover was gone, and the sheets were still settling where he'd vacated the bed. He rubbed his eyes, and hurried to join Sephiroth in the bathroom. He found the silver-haired man gripping the toilet as he knelt before it. He heard the gagging sound Sephiroth made, and moved to his side just in time to pull his lover's bangs out of his face before they were covered in viscous bile.

He stayed at his side, mentally silencing his bladder and holding Sephiroth's hair. He tried not to look in the toilet. He noted, despite himself, that it didn't seem like Sephiroth had actually eaten anything even remotely resembling food recently.

The man gasped in a breath between heaves, and it came out as almost a sob. Cloud instantly discarded any sleepy musings or disquiet to press against his back. His General was trembling as he retched in empty gags. Cloud pressed a kiss to his long hair, even as Sephiroth shifted, placing his cheek on the cool porcelain of the toilet seat. Cloud instantly feared for him, deep in his gut. He had never seen Sephiroth so quickly overcome his borderline obsessive compulsive aversion to anything remotely unsanitary.

"Cloud?" The man rasped, his voice a ruin of it's usual glory. He sounded like he'd been breathing in fire smoke all day—ragged and burned.

"Right here." Cloud whispered, shifting the mass of sweaty hair off Sephiroth's back. "Do you need to stay? Are you going to throw up again?"

"I don't think so." His fiancee turned bleary, glazed eyes to Cloud, looking disturbingly empty behind them.

"How about we get you into the shower, then." Cloud said softly. "I can't do much for you while you're covered in mako."

"I don't want it inside me." Sephiroth moaned, turning his face to all but cuddle against the cool porcelain.

"Come on, Seph." Cloud urged, taking one of his hands and prying it off the toilet, wincing at the cracks left in the ceramic where Sephiroth's fingertips had dug in. "The shower will be nice and cool. It'll help you feel better."

Sephiroth was heavy, slick with potentially poisonous sweat, and utterly uncoordinated in ways that Cloud had never seen in him before. He managed to coax him into the shower, but Sephiroth couldn't stand. He curled against the wall on the shower floor as Cloud took the detaching nozzle down to make sure he wouldn't freeze or burn Sephiroth with it. He kept his eyes on his shivering, half-naked lover as he waited for the water to warm up a little.

Sephiroth was watching him with dizzy eyes, his expression grim. His head dipped now and then, as though he were falling asleep right where he sat. Cloud decided the water temperature was good enough and carefully started rinsing Sephiroth off, starting with his feet.

At the first touch of water, Sephiroth jerked back. Cloud himself flinched away as the tiles on the wall behind Sephiroth cracked at the violent movement against them.

"Woah, Seph, take it easy," Cloud said, stepping into the shower to comfort his lover, despite still being fully clothed and not wanting to touch too much of the viscous green sweat covering Sephiroth.

"It hurts." Sephiroth gasped, his brows twisting. "It's like needles…"

"Oh gods." Cloud whispered. "I'm sorry. Your skin sensitivity... How could I forget?"

He reached out, brushing Sephiroth's hair lightly back out of his face, removing his fingers before too much mako could get on them. Sephiroth turned into his touch, but frowned when Cloud pulled away. He lifted worried, sad eyes to him, and Cloud's heart clenched in his chest at the lost look in those usually calm and attentive eyes.

"I can't touch too much." He whispered in apology. "You're sweating mako, Sephiroth. Actually sweating it. How much did he give you?"

"Too much." Sephiroth said, his voice choked and tense. "Turn the water back on. I can handle it."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"I want you near me." Sephiroth growled, his eyes flaring dangerously with possessive light. "I won't let a little pain stop me from being safe for you to touch."

Cloud frowned at him and shook his head. "There's no need for that, Sephiroth. Take it easy."

"I don't want to feel alone." Sephiroth's voice was sad and quiet. He curled in on himself in the corner of the shower, pressed against the cold tiles at his back.

Cloud sighed at his obviously somewhat out-of-it love, casting about mentally for how to help. His lips twitched into a smile as the answer presented itself.

"Wait just a moment, okay?" He said to his curled up love. "I'll be right back."

He returned with one of the unused thick, soft sponges they'd picked up for care and maintenance of Cloud's beloved motorcycle—an engagement gift from Sephiroth. Cloud wetted the soft yellow sponge in the lukewarm water still coming from the shower head and carefully knelt before Sephiroth on the damp shower floor.

"Tell me if this hurts, okay?" He said softly, starting to sponge off his lover's long fine-boned feet.

Sephiroth shivered, but he didn't object. He lifted his face out of his hands where he'd hidden it, watching Cloud over his knees with weary eyes. He stayed silent and bleary, eventually ending up dozing against the bathroom wall as Cloud carefully wiped the sponge over his mako-drenched skin.

He only stopped once, to get himself some gloves. Fortunately,Sephiroth always kept some around. He was far from squeamish, but when Cloud came home bleeding, Sephiroth always put on gloves before tending to him. Cloud thought it was rather overzealous of him, but he was glad to have them as he wrung the glowing green water out of the sponge and down the drain every few minutes.

He was still exhausted, and the running water wasn't doing his bladder any good. But the sponge bath seemed to be helping Sephiroth. His convulsive shivering was easing as Cloud cleaned him inch by inch. And the cleaner he got, the safer Cloud felt touching him. Eventually, Sephiroth even let out a slow breath and relaxed where he was, limp against the bathroom tiles.

"A little better?" Cloud asked softly.

"I can breathe again." Sephiroth replied in a low rumble of words.

"That's an improvement." Cloud said with a smile. "Ready to go back to bed? You're less mako-covered, at least."

"Nnn. I think I can get there."

"Good." Cloud said, dropping a feather-soft kiss to Sephiroth's lips. "Because I really need to pee…"

He was gratified with a low, half-aware chuckle from his exhausted lover. He helped Sephiroth to his feet. He was reminded that even when Sephiroth took a hand from Cloud to help himself up, he usually didn't rely on him at all. Trying to pull Sephiroth to his feet from sitting without the great General handling the overwhelming majority of the work, Cloud was faced with just how much a man practically built of muscle could weigh when he was limp, exhausted, and wet.

He managed it with a grunt of effort, and steadied his lover quickly the moment he was on his feet. Sephiroth almost slipped in the shower, but managed to right himself. Cloud half-carried him out of the bathroom.

Sephiroth gently disengaged from him to lean against the wall outside the doorway. Cloud hovered, lifting a hand to Sephiroth's burning-hot cheek, glad to see that the sheen of green sweat had not returned yet. Sephiroth gave a weary half-quirk of his lips in response.

"I'm alright." He muttered. "Go on. I'll wait here for you."

"You sure?" Cloud asked, his hands hovering over Sephiroth's chest, waiting and watching, as though Sephiroth might crumble at any moment.

Sephiroth nodded slowly. He held firm, leaning against the wall and breathing slowly and evenly. Cloud watched the rise and fall of his chest for a long moment before he withdrew with a nod, lifting a finger.

"I'll be right back." He said, pointing at Sephiroth. "Don't keel over."

A soft, low laugh escaped Sephiroth's raw throat, and something inside Cloud eased at the sound. Maybe between the shower and his stomach's rebellion he had enough of the mako out of his system to do him some good.

He returned quickly to his side, placing a hand on Sephiroth's bicep as he rejoined him. His skin was still damp between the shower and his sweat, but it no longer scalded. Sephiroth lifted his bright eyes to Cloud. Their color had stopped throbbing with his beating heart, but he looked uncertain.

"Did I…" He trailed off, clearing his throat softly. "Did I make you tell me fairy tales?"

Cloud grinned warmly at him, squeezing his fiancee's arm lightly in affection. "Only a couple." He tried to fight off relieved laughter as he spoke. "I thought it was sweet."

"Gods." Sephiroth whispered, staring at Cloud with a quiet mortification dawning on his features.

"Come back to bed." Cloud soothed. "I'll bring you something to drink. You seem like you could handle it now."

"I am sorry," Sephiroth let Cloud maneuver him back to standing almost upright. "It was never my intent to keep you up all night or to worry you. I just… I very much wanted to come home."

"Don't apologize for letting me look after you!" Cloud scolded as he helped Sephiroth back to bed. "I was really glad that you came home to me."

"Oh." Sephiroth said after a moment, sinking back into bed as Cloud deposited him there, carefully putting him on the side of the bed not glowing a sickly green. "Then… Thank you instead."

"You're welcome." Cloud whispered, leaning forward to catch Sephiroth in a very soft kiss. He tasted like mako and left Cloud's lips tingling for more than one reason, but the soft brush did wonders to ease Cloud's nerves.

He managed to bring Sephiroth his drink of water, and to tuck him into bed once more. Then he sank into bed, cuddling against his fiancee's finally resting form. One of Sephiroth's arms wrapped around his back automatically, and Cloud pillowed his head on his handsome General's shoulder.

The next thing he knew, he was waking up to an alarm going off and Sephiroth stirring beneath him.

"You are _not_ going to work." Cloud growled into the pale skin he was resting against.

"I wouldn't dream of it." Sephiroth whispered, his voice sounding as low and rich as it ought to. "Go back to sleep. Everything's quite alright now, Cloud."

"Next time say no." Cloud whispered, nuzzling wearily against Sephiroth, still on the fuzzy fringes of sleep. "Someone like you… It's just wrong for you to be sick."

"I'll try." Sephiroth promised softly. "Sleep."

Cloud was almost all the way into sleep when he heard Sephiroth give the smallest of laughs, shaking him slightly with the motion of his chest.

"The stupid old fart…" Sephiroth muttered to himself, sounding just as delighted as he had the night before when he was delirious with fever.

Cloud fell asleep with the early morning light starting to fall over their bed, and Sephiroth's amusement warming his heart.


End file.
